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꒰ ݁ ꫂ᭪ ꒱ 𓂃 The Scarlet String

˚₊‧꒰ა samurai.ᐟsuguru geto ﾉ empress.ᐟreader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

geto suguru, the imperial palace's head samurai, was a man of honour & no earthly attachment. but when he met you, the new bride of the emperor who didn't deserve you, suddenly attachment tethered in the form of a scarlet string. his soul to yours, but your heart never his. this could earn him the death penalty, but for you he'd suffer a thousand blades.

broadcast ᝰ.ᐟ✧ ancient japan, arranged marriage, mistreatment (from reader's husband), infidelity, historical sexism, mutual pining, forbidden love, star-crossed lovers, angst, mentions of sex 𓂃 wc ⌇ 3.5k

sweetheart host ᝰ.ᐟ✧ samurai suguru save meee. art cred ⌇ ( pls help me find this artist losing my mf mind )

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ was a respected man of his land. having risen through the ranks after much trial and tribulation. when he walked, people bowed their heads, when he spoke, others lowered their gazes. such reputation landed him a spot as the head of samurai at the imperial's division. that's where he met you.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who heard the gossip. the new bride, is what they called you. he guarded the palace the morning of your wedding. he'd only heard rumours about the 'delicate flower' that the emperor had plucked. the 'sweetest rain to kiss the earth'. he paid no mind, a man of his stature hardly gave into worldly desires. that was until he saw you through the curtain of the hall he guarded. but a peek, but a moment and yet — in that second, any earthly whim he had long since detached tethered into one chord. a red string. pierced straight through his heart.

The sweetest rain? No, you were the sky after a storm. The caress of the sun through the heavens, painting the bleak clouds in your splendour.

A delicate flower indeed. With your petal hand in the palm of your soon-to-be husband. Smiling brighter than any chrysanthemum he'd laid eyes on.

Suguru held his breath through the officiation. Beauty, he had beheld beauty before. You? Beauty was but a teardrop in your ocean.

Teardrops. Never would Suguru imagine anyone could bear to make an angel cry.

But he was wrong.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who quickly discovered not every hand knows how to hold a flower and care for her petals. as the head samurai he naturally stayed around the imperial palace for extended periods of times. a decision of duty yet he couldn't help but regret every second that led him to this point when he saw you weep. cry over a man who barely deserved to look at you let alone share a bedroom with. suguru watched with passive eyes smouldering coals. a dragon statue. still, but ever as fierce whenever you attempted kindness to your new husband. when you conducted your duties and searched for affection. only to receive harsh words. even a shove — as suguru came to hear. for if it were in front of him, he might have committed great acts of treason that day.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who realised you were far gentler than he initially assumed. you were young, full of life, untouched by the rough flames of this world. he'd noticed it more once rumours of war stirred over the land and the emperor stationed him at his beck and call. terrified of his own hubris and decisions? maybe. suguru could only roll his eyes at the emperor behind his back, but at the very least he got to be closer to you.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who started learning your routines. for your safety, of course. he discovered you preferred the gardens in the dead of night rather than the glimmers of the morning. realised you ate once for breakfast then again for dinner. during lunch you strolled and attended to whatever duty you could put your hand in. which included the more trivial matters of your servants who attempted to shoo you. only for you to drop to your knees, beside a riverbed no less! why? to help them with clothes, of course. suguru beheld it all. your mannerisms, your habits, the kind heart he wished to hold in his hands. but what shattered him the most? the interactions with your husband. the pig that didn't deserve you.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who rarely spoke even as he escorted you around. your gaze would sometimes drift to him, but you'd either be graced with violet eyes staring right back, or none at all. his expressions forever threw you off. even in his casual attire, there was an air of intimidation and authority. he'd noticed your attempts at conversation, he found it adorable. bless your tender soul — but he is merely a servant. a loyal devotee to his nation and the imperial palace. if you looked at him as a block of stone and steel rather than anything breathing, so be it. as long as he could stay close to you.

"You're very quiet."

Sunlight gleamed through the midnight. Such phenomena was only possible with your eyes, your smile, your voice blossoming into the cool air.

Kneeling again, this time at your flowerbeds. Chrysanthemum, tsubaki, ajisai, but the true floral splendour sat on her knees. With a smile to part the heavens and unweave every ounce of training and discipline Suguru had established.

At the foot of the garden he stood. A mighty zelkova tree rooted in his silence and still in the midnight breeze. Awoken only by your voice. You imagined his eyes raised, but Suguru's stare hadn't left you since your arrival.

"I understand if you are unable to speak." You smiled and turned back to blooms. "I just realised I've never heard your voice. Since I see you more than my husband these days, I thought it appropriate."

Your mouth caressed the word 'husband' softer. As if it were something to be revered. Or feared. Suguru couldn't pick his poison.

Unnecessary respect, that is what you gave Suguru. He is but your servant, and yet you refused to look at him. Beneath you, but you hold consideration.

You could demand he speak. Request he shout. Hell, snapped your finger and expected him to read your every wish quick, respond even quicker. But you smiled, assured, even sympathised.

In the heavy silence snowed over the garden, your nervousness fluttered like a frozen butterfly. Waiting for your wings to shatter. Whether by your own doing or the mouth that swore to protect you.

Instead, it mused.

"I was unaware my lady welcomed conversation."

Glimmers through the night, your gaze snapped to his face. Instead of stone or steel, softness greeted you. Stoic, yes, but who knew the frightful samurai lord could smile? Even if faint and solely curled at the corners.

"Well I —" and then you were stumbling. Pushing through gravity to will yourself up and fumbled over the grass in your excitement. "I assumed you were under some vow. Or something. I'm not too accustomed —"

Steel, however, manifested on your arm. No bite, no pain, steady and shielding. Your garden brimmed with all sorts of colours and varieties, but the shade of violet that stared down upon you was something you felt compelled to paint with.

"Easy." When Suguru spoke his baritone exceeded the night. He leaned over you once your stumbling form and froze you with his presence instead. Not the kind of ice that splintered. The kind that kissed, cradled.

"My only vow is to protect you, my lady." And then it was gone.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ began speaking with you after that incident. if his lady wished for conversation then he would give it to her. his presence felt more than protective nowadays, it was pleasant. so pleasant you often pouted whenever your husband arrived and relieved suguru of his duties for the nights. thanks the heavens you wedded an emperor, yes? always busy, never around, giving you plenty of time with your new friend.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who kept conversation to a minimal. after all, you were still high above him and he knew his place in the soil. but like a persistent gardener you weeded through this stubbornness and pulled his voice like blooming blossoms. he conceded, of course. if it was your wish for a friend then that he could be. you needed one, after all. you deserved more than that. the palace, the lands, the earth and the heavens in suguru's opinion. alas, he is but a samurai and you are the empress. his gift to you will be his devotion. you learnt suguru had two loving parents who stayed snugly in his home village and a close friend of his rank that guarded the neighbouring land. in turn he learnt you adored the fine arts and humoured you.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who summoned every ounce of strength and perseverance one sleepless night he ventured to the gardens to find peace and instead stirred strife in his ears. you were a married woman, of course he was well aware of your . . . 'duties'. if it were your voice he heard from your private quarters, he might have found some comfort. alas it was your filthy, borish husband. getting himself off by the sounds of it. your voice? imitation. suguru knew you adored the fine arts but he never assumed such acting skills.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who felt more than envy tugging at his heart. the red string torn through his chest coiled tight. a woman of your stature, beauty and very being should be treated with more than respect. pleasured with such bliss that she'd sleep soundlessly through the night. it seemed the emperor not only failed to handle the land properly, but you as well. it was one thing to bumble like a fool and leave other officials needing to fill in for you — but the evident need for someone else to tend to your wife? if suguru could he'd whisk you away. show you what true bliss tastes like. if the emperor isn't careful he might have to — no.

Not these thoughts.

Not these desires.

You are not some object he can whisk around in the confines of his head.

You were beauty, grace, divinity. And even his mind will serve you as such. You are the deity and he your devotee. Your image won't be tainted by his own thoughts. While he could assure your pleasure, he would never initiate.

For it was by your choice. Your decision. Your rule.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ couldn't help the stares he held across hallways, patrols, ceremonies. whether with or without your husband. your eyes locked in the way the moon misses the sun. you always held on. a second longer, a moment more, then you'd turn. would he? never. he couldn't pry his eyes from you. especially with the faux, physical affection from the emperor. oh how your gaze would drift to his, catch his lowering to the hand on your waist, then back to your eyes. you took it for granted.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who held his hand to help you out of carriages. who lingered his touch just a little longer. who extended his patrol hours to walk alongside you in the gardens. knelt down beside flowerbeds to aid your passion. who accidentally cornered you in a hallway when you stumbled over those clumsy feet only to be swiftly caught and spun against a wall with a quiet — "my lady, are you alright?"

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who looked to your opinion during meetings. while you were not allowed to speak, he often paid close attention to your opinion on certain topics and decisions; before voicing those himself. your husband was useless in ruling the lands in any case, so perhaps this is the heavens bestowing luck. that is if the bastard listened.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ stood at your side first and foremost. while he was sworn to protect the emperor, during official meetings and escorts, he was at your side. the emperor never paid it any mind. you were a woman, you needed more protection, right? little did the bastard know that if danger fell, so would he. suguru's katana would serve you. not the pig that cannot cherish you. treason? perhaps, but he had been clear to you on that night in the garden. whether you realised it or not. his only vow was to protect you.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who learnt more about you as the months went by. grew closer in a way he knew threatened boundaries. but you let him. lingering touches, longing stares — you never expected to break down in his arms one fateful morning when the night was simply too much. he became a comfort you never knew possible. he would never shun you, deny you, any rejection would surely be foolish and go against his heart's code. morals? he knows their names. but you might just make him forget.

"I'm sorry." Quivered, wilted. A drooping chrysanthemum in his arms. Forlorn from the sun's scorches and overrun with your rains of tears. Angels should never weep, yet you sobbed. Lost in his strong embrace.

"I'm sorry, Geto. I shouldn't —" at the foot of your private chambers and yet in the arms of another man. Your attempt to withdraw fell short. Stilled by a large hand cupped behind your head.

Halted in your own carelessness, but brought to life by his touch. He stroked your scalp with tenderness tethered to his fingertips in those same scarlet strings.

"Why do you apologise?" Suguru murmured atop your head. In that moment, he became your sanctuary. No longer were you an empress, or a woman married off.

You were simply, you. A delicate flower he swore to never let wither. Not like this. Never.

Calloused hands cradled your face. To you it never felt softer. Suguru remained at a distance, even with your hearts intertwining. Never would he sully your image with him: a humble servant.

"Fall upon me in your time of need. I told you," his thumb brushed over your cheekbone. Imprinting his promise.

"My only vow is to you, my lady."

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who noticed your abrupt distance. had he crossed a line that morning? if you wished for him to turn you away, you should have said something. for all his strength, he is every definition of weakness when stood before you. suguru would never approach you on it, he couldn't. it was your decision to give attention and take it. even if he missed its soft kiss on his skin. even if he longed for the song of your voice to bless his ears. you barely spoke to him, barely even looked at him.

"Have I angered you, my lady?"

At last he asked. If you wished to strike him down for such treason then so be it. But your warmth was granted to him and then left him stranded, cold. Even in the tender spring.

"Never Geto — Suguru." His name on your mouth. It was a prayer, an apology, everything he wanted yet didn't deserve. Not from you, the only being high above him.

"I simply . . . think it's best to keep my distance. For our sake. Yours."

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who couldn't understand what you meant by that but held true even when it ruined him. especially with the new hovering of your husband. were the divine laughing at him? was every god in the heavens playing some cruel joke on him? if this red string is fate, then let them cut it. but who could suguru lie to? even if the gods themselves snapped the string he'd weave it back, tether every thread with his bare hands and hook himself back to you. you were an earthly desire he couldn't relinquish, and refused to. even when you seemed to wish for such. for once, he couldn't respect your decision. not when he saw how solemn you'd become. when he bore witness to your only amplified mistreatment.

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who proved his vow true. a storm took the palace in steel and fury. an unexpected siege at the hands of the enemy. rumours of war had become a reality and suguru acted in his duty. to the emperor? no. while he commanded his fleet and fought for the palace, tore down the opposition and guarded the imperial. . . you were his priority. word had gotten out that you were taken — and suguru couldn't care less about the palace when its princess was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she?"

Steel flushed to an opponent's throat. Eyes ablaze. Jaw set sight. The man shook, but grinned.

"My, have you grown soft, Geto?"

Suguru angled his blade. Struck the shoulder. Dug deep and spoke low. Sharper than his katana.

"Answer me and I'll leave enough of you intact for jigoku to recognise. Where. Is. She?"

˖ 𑣲 samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who could only be described as feral. he dashed for the maple forest and found the group dragging you along. tossed into a sedan and pushed around like some prize. sullied by their hands. no matter. steel bit through the air followed by shattered screams. twenty three, highly trained and enough to spark fear in probably half of suguru's men — fell to his sword in a matter of second. scarlet painted maple trees more vibrantly. each hit the floor with any hands that dared to touch you dismantled, any eye that thought it worthy of looking upon you struck, shut, stabbed. until only two stood. the samurai with his heaves and his heavy blade, flicked to the side so red scattered the floor too. he wasted no time beholding the carnage before he stood before your cowered form on the ground and hoisted you up instantly. steadying your shaky self and terrified cries. you stilled when familiar violets met you. shock, then realisation — then horror.

"Have you lost your mind!?"

Your cry painted every leaf redder. "The palace is under siege! Go — return at once, protect —"

Hands steeled tight on your shoulders. Soaked in the same scarlet. Nothing in comparison to the string that shone through the bleary night. Shimmered, strung, secure. Between you. Him. Only now visible to your eye.

Rain soaked the land. Poured into the red and washed it from the leaves, the ground, his clothes — but not the string.

"My only vow." Suguru's whisper shook violently in its shout. Refinement bled from his fingertips that held tight. Trembled you in his firm hold. He never meant to rattle you. But the quakes of his heart, his soul, seeped into his hands. Thunder crashed, so did his voice. Never raised, but fierce. Able to still the storm.

"Is to you."

As any sinner would, he allowed his hands to wander. To your face, to cradle, to caress. He flushed you into him. Uncaring of the rain, the blood, the tremor in your body. What did it matter when you melted into him?

"When will you understand that?" Croaked, paired with the thunder. You're shook again. Gentler. The man you knew, unweaved and unravelled before your very eyes. "When will you understand that my devotion is to you — and only—"

His soaked hair kissed your skin as he jerked forward. Violets frazzled, whirled and wild like the storm. His clothes bled into yours. Breaths stilled with yours. Heart beat with yours.

Can't you feel how it shattered for you? How it soared for you? Were his eyes not enough, would you rather his blood as a sign? His soul is already yours. Take the rest of his being. Him, every fibre he'd built through the years.

It didn't matter when it came to you.

"Only you."

Suguru breathed. Lashes soaked in the rain and stroking yours. Body, mind, soul, linked in this endless, agonising scarlet string he couldn't strike, cut, split. Never. He'd never.

Forbidden. His lips inched yours. Every year of training, down the drain. Every stature of his being, torn away by you. Restraint, resolve, refinement, it rinsed away with the rain.

One inch.

One touch.

That's all he needed.

It's all you wouldn't allow.

"Suguru."

You cried when you wished to kiss. You withdrew when all you wanted was to wait. Hold. Lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his love. . . love?

The red string bled. He stiffened.

"I can't." An apology to him or the heavens? He'll never know. Not with the way you still clung to him or the cracks in your eyes. Still held onto his, still fixed. Pleading, wanting, but denying. "I can't. I'm wed. I'm the emperor's wife. I am married. I cannot."

The storm cleared overhead, but not in violets. Rain continued its vast downpour, but now the heat of his body felt cold as he stared. Searching for an answer, for you, the true you hidden in the depths of yourself. The you he saw in the garden. The you he held.

The flower he adored. Now withered. Unsure.

"If you can even call that a marriage." His hand pushed to your cheek, cupped you with a gentleness you never knew. "If you could even call that disgusting pig a husband —" it's the first time his voice raised. And that's when he realised.

He broke code. He shattered tradition. Painted over it with ink of his own desire — no.

His own heart.

And as he stood there. Rooted like that same zelkova before the chrysanthemum he should have never touched, never tainted, only observed from afar. He understood that he was no longer that tree. But a blade of grass. Whispered through the wind. Wilting.

To his own soul.

"As you wish, my lady." He murmured. Even when it was his eyes that plead, wanted. Still, he denied.

His touch slipped from your skin. Arm dangled at his side, together with the string. Weighed heavy between two hearts that knew better. Or did they? Was is that they knew too well?

That fate wasn't a kiss in the rain.

"Forgive this servant for thinking otherwise."

But cruel.

#icymi ۫ ۶ৎ .#geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader

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edensrose · 4 hours ago

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. ۫ᯓᡣ𐭩 sweetheart fm's broadcast on ⌇ eden's journal : 25/06

˖ ꯴ ⌇ in which eden laments over whipped cream

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 '𝒏 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆 ﹕ broadcasts ꒱ . ˚◞✧#eden's journal

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edensrose · 5 hours ago

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. ۫ᯓᡣ𐭩 small sneak peek at my upcoming smau featuring familial dynamics with reader, satoru and their teenage kid ( shinji .ᐟ )

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 '𝒏 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆 ﹕ jjk ꒱ . ˚◞✧#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smau

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edensrose · 5 hours ago

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you will feel so alive again.. like so incredibly alive. i dont know when that will be but it will be. u are gonna feel so alive that ur cheeks hurt from smiling oh man oh man i promise that day is coming. you do have a future, you do have good things coming, and you’ll survive everything that’s thrown at you until you reach that day

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔 ﹕ ꒱ . ˚◞✧

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edensrose · 5 hours ago

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hii! i'm not sure if you write for nanami but i just wanted to ask if you could write a sinners au w nanami pretty please? 🥹💕

꒰ ᡣ𐭩 ꒱ hiii my darling i do write for nanami however i unfortunately can't write a sinners au, i haven't watched it & don't plan on watching it bc of the religious themes buuuut there's an amazing writer whose done a ton of what you're looking for .ᐟ check out the lovely @eraserbread 🩷

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎 ﹕ anon ꒱ . ˚◞✧

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edensrose · 5 hours ago

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Choso - 25/06/25

here's that choso drawing I said I'd do a few hours ago :3

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔 ﹕ jjk ꒱ . ˚◞✧#pretty pretty PRETTT ART OMGGGG #choso kamo #jjk

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edensrose · 6 hours ago

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꒰ ᡣ𐭩 ꒱ taglist : @maraswrrld @whygeeh @candy-s72 @berryhojii @caffine-exe @ironicsss @nanamisbbygirl @mariealexa @vysnical @doomboy @thesmithseatmealive @ahiruxxp @bbatzvil @raquel12 @iluvyouzaynmalikk @oikawaheart @kurookinnie @plxnet-pluto @foxy-lisard @cheese-scented-lotion @primordialpickles @s0ulr34pr @jelxqa @youscream-aisle040 @alexkay2004 @voguexcherry @eels4545 @betzy-chan @exitingmusic @snellaa @bluukive @sageslittlelibrary @heiwara @faerieodd @realalpacorn @reree22222 @anajname28 @aspiringadorer @ameliadelamuerte @kunawned @heh123321 @kukiitaaa

꒰ ݁ ꫂ᭪ ꒱ 𓂃 The Scarlet String

˚₊‧꒰ა samurai.ᐟsuguru geto ﾉ empress.ᐟreader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sweetheart host ᝰ.ᐟ✧ samurai suguru save meee. art cred ⌇ ( pls help me find this artist losing my mf mind )

The sweetest rain? No, you were the sky after a storm. The caress of the sun through the heavens, painting the bleak clouds in your splendour.

A delicate flower indeed. With your petal hand in the palm of your soon-to-be husband. Smiling brighter than any chrysanthemum he'd laid eyes on.

Suguru held his breath through the officiation. Beauty, he had beheld beauty before. You? Beauty was but a teardrop in your ocean.

Teardrops. Never would Suguru imagine anyone could bear to make an angel cry.

But he was wrong.

"You're very quiet."

Sunlight gleamed through the midnight. Such phenomena was only possible with your eyes, your smile, your voice blossoming into the cool air.

Your mouth caressed the word 'husband' softer. As if it were something to be revered. Or feared. Suguru couldn't pick his poison.

Unnecessary respect, that is what you gave Suguru. He is but your servant, and yet you refused to look at him. Beneath you, but you hold consideration.

You could demand he speak. Request he shout. Hell, snapped your finger and expected him to read your every wish quick, respond even quicker. But you smiled, assured, even sympathised.

In the heavy silence snowed over the garden, your nervousness fluttered like a frozen butterfly. Waiting for your wings to shatter. Whether by your own doing or the mouth that swore to protect you.

Instead, it mused.

"I was unaware my lady welcomed conversation."

"My only vow is to protect you, my lady." And then it was gone.

Not these thoughts.

Not these desires.

You are not some object he can whisk around in the confines of his head.

For it was by your choice. Your decision. Your rule.

"I'm sorry, Geto. I shouldn't —" at the foot of your private chambers and yet in the arms of another man. Your attempt to withdraw fell short. Stilled by a large hand cupped behind your head.

Halted in your own carelessness, but brought to life by his touch. He stroked your scalp with tenderness tethered to his fingertips in those same scarlet strings.

"Why do you apologise?" Suguru murmured atop your head. In that moment, he became your sanctuary. No longer were you an empress, or a woman married off.

You were simply, you. A delicate flower he swore to never let wither. Not like this. Never.

Calloused hands cradled your face. To you it never felt softer. Suguru remained at a distance, even with your hearts intertwining. Never would he sully your image with him: a humble servant.

"Fall upon me in your time of need. I told you," his thumb brushed over your cheekbone. Imprinting his promise.

"My only vow is to you, my lady."

"Have I angered you, my lady?"

At last he asked. If you wished to strike him down for such treason then so be it. But your warmth was granted to him and then left him stranded, cold. Even in the tender spring.

"Never Geto — Suguru." His name on your mouth. It was a prayer, an apology, everything he wanted yet didn't deserve. Not from you, the only being high above him.

"I simply . . . think it's best to keep my distance. For our sake. Yours."

"Where is she?"

Steel flushed to an opponent's throat. Eyes ablaze. Jaw set sight. The man shook, but grinned.

"My, have you grown soft, Geto?"

Suguru angled his blade. Struck the shoulder. Dug deep and spoke low. Sharper than his katana.

"Answer me and I'll leave enough of you intact for jigoku to recognise. Where. Is. She?"

"Have you lost your mind!?"

Your cry painted every leaf redder. "The palace is under siege! Go — return at once, protect —"

Rain soaked the land. Poured into the red and washed it from the leaves, the ground, his clothes — but not the string.

"Is to you."

His soaked hair kissed your skin as he jerked forward. Violets frazzled, whirled and wild like the storm. His clothes bled into yours. Breaths stilled with yours. Heart beat with yours.

It didn't matter when it came to you.

"Only you."

Suguru breathed. Lashes soaked in the rain and stroking yours. Body, mind, soul, linked in this endless, agonising scarlet string he couldn't strike, cut, split. Never. He'd never.

Forbidden. His lips inched yours. Every year of training, down the drain. Every stature of his being, torn away by you. Restraint, resolve, refinement, it rinsed away with the rain.

One inch.

One touch.

That's all he needed.

It's all you wouldn't allow.

"Suguru."

You cried when you wished to kiss. You withdrew when all you wanted was to wait. Hold. Lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his love. . . love?

The red string bled. He stiffened.

The flower he adored. Now withered. Unsure.

He broke code. He shattered tradition. Painted over it with ink of his own desire — no.

His own heart.

To his own soul.

"As you wish, my lady." He murmured. Even when it was his eyes that plead, wanted. Still, he denied.

His touch slipped from your skin. Arm dangled at his side, together with the string. Weighed heavy between two hearts that knew better. Or did they? Was is that they knew too well?

That fate wasn't a kiss in the rain.

"Forgive this servant for thinking otherwise."

But cruel.

138 notes · View notes

edensrose · 6 hours ago

Text

꒰ ݁ ꫂ᭪ ꒱ 𓂃 The Scarlet String

˚₊‧꒰ა samurai.ᐟsuguru geto ﾉ empress.ᐟreader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sweetheart host ᝰ.ᐟ✧ samurai suguru save meee. art cred ⌇ ( pls help me find this artist losing my mf mind )

The sweetest rain? No, you were the sky after a storm. The caress of the sun through the heavens, painting the bleak clouds in your splendour.

A delicate flower indeed. With your petal hand in the palm of your soon-to-be husband. Smiling brighter than any chrysanthemum he'd laid eyes on.

Suguru held his breath through the officiation. Beauty, he had beheld beauty before. You? Beauty was but a teardrop in your ocean.

Teardrops. Never would Suguru imagine anyone could bear to make an angel cry.

But he was wrong.

˖ �� samurai geto suguru ᝰ.ᐟ✧ who realised you were far gentler than he initially assumed. you were young, full of life, untouched by the rough flames of this world. he'd noticed it more once rumours of war stirred over the land and the emperor stationed him at his beck and call. terrified of his own hubris and decisions? maybe. suguru could only roll his eyes at the emperor behind his back, but at the very least he got to be closer to you.

"You're very quiet."

Sunlight gleamed through the midnight. Such phenomena was only possible with your eyes, your smile, your voice blossoming into the cool air.

Your mouth caressed the word 'husband' softer. As if it were something to be revered. Or feared. Suguru couldn't pick his poison.

Unnecessary respect, that is what you gave Suguru. He is but your servant, and yet you refused to look at him. Beneath you, but you hold consideration.

You could demand he speak. Request he shout. Hell, snapped your finger and expected him to read your every wish quick, respond even quicker. But you smiled, assured, even sympathised.

In the heavy silence snowed over the garden, your nervousness fluttered like a frozen butterfly. Waiting for your wings to shatter. Whether by your own doing or the mouth that swore to protect you.

Instead, it mused.

"I was unaware my lady welcomed conversation."

"My only vow is to protect you, my lady." And then it was gone.

Not these thoughts.

Not these desires.

You are not some object he can whisk around in the confines of his head.

For it was by your choice. Your decision. Your rule.

"I'm sorry, Geto. I shouldn't —" at the foot of your private chambers and yet in the arms of another man. Your attempt to withdraw fell short. Stilled by a large hand cupped behind your head.

Halted in your own carelessness, but brought to life by his touch. He stroked your scalp with tenderness tethered to his fingertips in those same scarlet strings.

"Why do you apologise?" Suguru murmured atop your head. In that moment, he became your sanctuary. No longer were you an empress, or a woman married off.

You were simply, you. A delicate flower he swore to never let wither. Not like this. Never.

Calloused hands cradled your face. To you it never felt softer. Suguru remained at a distance, even with your hearts intertwining. Never would he sully your image with him: a humble servant.

"Fall upon me in your time of need. I told you," his thumb brushed over your cheekbone. Imprinting his promise.

"My only vow is to you, my lady."

"Have I angered you, my lady?"

At last he asked. If you wished to strike him down for such treason then so be it. But your warmth was granted to him and then left him stranded, cold. Even in the tender spring.

"Never Geto — Suguru." His name on your mouth. It was a prayer, an apology, everything he wanted yet didn't deserve. Not from you, the only being high above him.

"I simply . . . think it's best to keep my distance. For our sake. Yours."

"Where is she?"

Steel flushed to an opponent's throat. Eyes ablaze. Jaw set sight. The man shook, but grinned.

"My, have you grown soft, Geto?"

Suguru angled his blade. Struck the shoulder. Dug deep and spoke low. Sharper than his katana.

"Answer me and I'll leave enough of you intact for jigoku to recognise. Where. Is. She?"

"Have you lost your mind!?"

Your cry painted every leaf redder. "The palace is under siege! Go — return at once, protect —"

Rain soaked the land. Poured into the red and washed it from the leaves, the ground, his clothes — but not the string.

"Is to you."

His soaked hair kissed your skin as he jerked forward. Violets frazzled, whirled and wild like the storm. His clothes bled into yours. Breaths stilled with yours. Heart beat with yours.

It didn't matter when it came to you.

"Only you."

Suguru breathed. Lashes soaked in the rain and stroking yours. Body, mind, soul, linked in this endless, agonising scarlet string he couldn't strike, cut, split. Never. He'd never.

Forbidden. His lips inched yours. Every year of training, down the drain. Every stature of his being, torn away by you. Restraint, resolve, refinement, it rinsed away with the rain.

One inch.

One touch.

That's all he needed.

It's all you wouldn't allow.

"Suguru."

You cried when you wished to kiss. You withdrew when all you wanted was to wait. Hold. Lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his love. . . love?

The red string bled. He stiffened.

The flower he adored. Now withered. Unsure.

He broke code. He shattered tradition. Painted over it with ink of his own desire — no.

His own heart.

To his own soul.

"As you wish, my lady." He murmured. Even when it was his eyes that plead, wanted. Still, he denied.

His touch slipped from your skin. Arm dangled at his side, together with the string. Weighed heavy between two hearts that knew better. Or did they? Was is that they knew too well?

That fate wasn't a kiss in the rain.

"Forgive this servant for thinking otherwise."

But cruel.

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 '𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 ﹕ geto suguru ꒱ . ˚◞✧#geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto angst #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #the scarlet string #samurai!suguru #fem reader

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edensrose · 8 hours ago

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˚₊‧꒰ა gojo enari ﾉ gn reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˖ ꯴ ⌇ your beloved boyfriend is strangely devout ꒰ pinterest ˖ gojo clan ꒱

“What will you have me do, beg?”

“Well,” you mused. “Maybe? Wouldn't that be a sight. A Gojo begging —”

Knock! Went the floor. Went your heart.

Up your legs smoothed delicate hands, lathering you with affection. Up your thighs whispered kisses from smoother lips.

“Oh, my darling.”

He crooned and your eyes gaped. Never would you have expected Gojo Enari, eldest of the Gojo Clan, to fall upon his knees before you. Kimono draped around him like a blooming flower of elegance and devotion as large, tender palms laved over your thighs, your hips, followed with his kisses.

“If you wish for this poor fool to beg then beg he will. Is my love not devout enough? Must I cry for you?" Enari's lips pressed along your tummy. He squeezed on your thighs slowly, sensually as he pressed into you like a lifeline.

Clinging. He was clinging. Worshipping. Shuddering.

“My darling,” half his face buried into your stomach, silver eyes peered up from feathery, fair lashes. “Save me, my love, save me.” He wallowed, still smiled, looked upon you as if you were every divinity in the heavens.

He took your hand, kissed it. Nuzzled your tummy, kissed it again, then limped. Heart eyes fluttered up to you and brows pinched upwards.

“Please,” he whispered, shaky. “Please, might you kiss this poor fool?”

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 '𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 ﹕ enari gojo ꒱ . ˚◞✧#x reader #reader insert #oc x reader #jjk oc #jjk oc x reader #gojo enari x reader #gn reader

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edensrose · 9 hours ago

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Well you absolutely gorgeous, aren’t you, sweetheart?

Such delectable choice and taste of aesthetic and formatting. Pretty little thing we got here huh?

Could I be lucky enough to request a little something for the strongest himself?

How ‘bout a sweetheart reader, blissfully unaware of the hearts she’s got beating twice the normal drumbeat.

And yet Satoru joins the game of chase for fun, to see if he could make her feel something for him. He went in thinking he wouldn’t fall. But he did, he fell bad. And she doesn’t see it— making it turn into a little obsession for him to get it to click for her.

Thinking ‘bout some indirect kisses too? Subtle hand touches, until it becomes full-blown in a messy, desperate attempt to get her to see it. Whatever this delves into, I think I’ll leave to you. Sweetheart.

˖ 𑣲 𝓐 ll the ways you ruin me

˚₊‧꒰ა satoru gojo ﾉ sweetheart.ᐟ reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ he's always known that you were too good for him — but what happens when he tried to make you fall and you're not noticing? his desperation and desire keeps growing, but you're not batting an eye ꒰ ᡣ𐭩 ꒱ lovesick toru ˖ smutty end ˖ oral ( f. receiving ) ˖ 1.4k

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ eden , anon you want me so bad don't you? it's okay no one's lookin we can kiss

. ۫ᯓᡣ𐭩 TEASER .ᐟ “Can't do this anymore,” he heaved. Ragged, rough, nothing like the man you know. His lips felt like fire and his tongue like ice. “Need you to see me. Need you to need me.”

She was a charmer, they said.

Look into her eyes and you've lost, they said.

But Satoru Gojo never knew what it meant to back down from a challenge. You were beauty, grace, power — all three of which he's admired since your shared years in Jujutsu High.

He'd watched you grow into the woman that you are now. Claw your way to the top with pretty, charmed nails and glossy lips wretched in that smile both parts insane as it was beautiful. He'd seen how the masses fell for you; the woman they once turned their back on.

Your charm was what intrigued him. He didn't quite remember that from high school. Oh, how you paraded yourself like the definition of elegance — as you deserved, because you were. How you smiled to get what you wanted, allured just because you thought it was fun. Men, women, you didn't care, it's not like half of it was intentional in any case.

Satoru felt something he hadn't quite experienced before. A certain tug and blister to his soul. Jealousy, of you? What would he need to be jealous of, he's the strongest. Even your title, the second, is a nod to him.

No, jealous for you. The way you batted those pretty lashes and crooned at the next poor fool who was ready to play into your hand. How your charms pulled even the most stoic of faces and touched the coldest of hearts. He wished it was for him; and it was. Your little flirtationship and pointless competitions were solely for him, no one else could fit his shoes after all.

But they weren't only for him, and that's when he decided: wouldn't it be fun to charm the charmer?

It started with amped-up flirts. Compliments that lit up your face and twinkled your eyes. Suggestive brushes when you'd sway those dangerous hips into his office with files for your newest shared lesson. He asked you out for dinner, once, twice, thrice — hadn't you seen him staring at your lips all night?

Couldn't you see the way his fingers ached for you? Your hands, your waist, those thighs you hardly hide in silk dresses and preppy skirts. Surely, his blue eyes spelt out every desire for you. If you'd let him his tongue could too —

Woah, where'd that come from? That's not how it was supposed to go. This was another competition, a silly little game. But how can he play when you're cheating with those stunning eyes, plush thighs, damning voice and a brawn that matched his? How could he play with the only sorcerer that came close to his strength and turned it to putty in your pretty, dainty hands?

Suddenly, he didn't want your affection and attention for the sake of some bet he made for his pride. He needed it like a lifeline. Like the air that left him whenever you were around. Like the food that tasted bland if you weren't opposite from him.

But you hadn't made a move on him. At best he got your hand tight around his collar after a teasing, flirtatious jab. How close you held him, face-to-face. He could have died in your palm if it meant to be consumed by you.

You still flirted with others. Still held several hearts in your hand without even trying nor intending. His heart. His soul. Why couldn't you see what you'd done to him? Why couldn't you see what you turned him into?

It felt like he was losing his mind. He waited for cataclysmic curses so that you'd be assigned on his missions. Counted the seconds for some free time to rush to your door for a 'surprise visit'. But you took everything with a grain of salt.

Were you playing with him?

Is this what they mean when they called you a siren?

His last thread of control snapped one fateful night in his office. Your hands brushed with an exchanged document, his slid to your wrist, trapped it in his large hand. And you smiled, tilted your head and bid him goodnight, tried to slip from his hold.

As if you didn't see his eyes, didn't feel his hands, feel the weight of his need. Here you were again, trying to flutter out of his grasp.

He trapped you like a helpless butterfly. Pinned your wings to him. Crashed into you with the force of a flame that grew tired of a moth's antics. Your gasp into his mouth stroked a satisfaction deep within him. You both stumbled through the dim office. He caught you on his desk, one hand fixed behind your head and the other on your waist.

"Can't do this anymore," he heaved. Ragged, rough, nothing like the man you know. His lips felt like fire and his tongue like ice. "Need you to see me. Need you to need me."

"Satoru — "

"Yeah, just like that baby."

You melted into his hands as if you belonged there — no, you did. Your lips moulded on his just right, your tongue submitted to his, thighs fit in his palms like they were the arms of your throne, his face was naturally the seat.

His name came again. This time paired with desperate fingers in his white hair and your sweet taste he'd been dreaming of since this stupid self-bet started. Your panties looped on one ankle, leaving your pretty pussy completely exposed to his tongue.

Eager and firm as it swirled your clit and drew pantings down your slit. The sheer size of his hand allowed his thumb to nudge against your clit in angry little circles. As though his frustration poured out into overstimulating your pretty self.

"Just for me, right sweet girl?" He slurred into your heat. Drinking and gulping down your juices like nectar. Eyes half-hung and hopelessly yours as they stared in a daze at you.

He pinched on your clit when you didn't look down. Still not giving him your attention? Is he a fool for you? "Look -" he heaved, parting with a pop. Your slick glistens his lower face and bobbing throat. "Look at me. Fucking — keep your eyes on me."

You comply, shakily. He can't remember when last he saw you so weak. He can't remember when last he felt so weak. His face buried again. Tongue circling your wet hole then shoving in to fuck you on the pink muscle with reckless abandon.

Strong hands dragged you closer. Sat you flush on his face as you arched into the desk for dear life. He couldn't bear to not have his flesh against yours. Not even for a second. Yet even muffled, the lewd slurps and wet squelches filled his office. How he wished to record the exact moment you gave yourself to him.

"toru - ah - toru oh god —"

"Tell me."

He whined, parted his tongue with syrupy strings connected. He swirled them on your throbbing clit and shoved two fingers into your pussy instead. Pumping, curling, needing you to seal the deal and mess his face. "Tell me you need me. Tell me I'm yours."

"You're - fuck — y-you're mine," your eyes looped back from the onslaught of harsh sucks on your clit. A silent, louder, so you oblige. "You're mine - Satoru-! Mine - mine, 'm yours, ah." Your hands tightened on his hair and your wetness ground on his face in sloppy, pathetic hip rolls.

He's trapped your clit. Messily thrusting his fingers and angling them on a spot he shouldn't even know, yet fucks so expertly. Spraying your juices and trickles of cum all over his face. Evidence that he's yours now.

His eyes looked up as if in search for light. Sure enough, yours shone down upon him. The perfect image of sin as you stuttered your hips into his albeit slower, but still working tongue and fingers.

"This -" you heaved, raking through his snowy hair. "This is your way of confessing?"

Satoru chuckled and the vibrations into your poor cunt elicited soft whines. He huffed, a small pop! resonating as he parted. "Can you blame me? You're as oblivious as sheep." You squeezed your thighs around his head for that one, he groaned and pressed closer. Pink muscle feathering licks on your dripping slit.

"Thought maybe my tongue would spell it out better." He laves a kiss to your clit, sweet and sensual before his hands abruptly shoved up and gripped onto your ass, dragging you back onto his awaiting mouth.

"You thought we're done? Gotta make up for lost time, sweetheart. Arch a bit more, this time."

That damned wink. And he called you the charmer.

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 '𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 ﹕ satoru gojo ꒱ . ˚◞✧#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #fem reader

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